


Tear-Soaked Ember

by LKChoi



Category: Kamisama Hajimemashita | Kamisama Kiss
Genre: Anger, Angst, Loneliness, M/M, Manga & Anime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:34:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5814379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LKChoi/pseuds/LKChoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tomoe has trouble processing his torrent of emotions over Mikage's disappearance</p><p>6-14-16 Entered into the Yaoi A Go-Go Fanfic Contest</p><p>Update 7-9-16<br/>Yaoi A Go Go Fanfic Contest Honorable Mention</p><p>Thank you for the opportunity from the wonderful folks over at Yaoi A Go-Go. Please support their FB page, magazine, website and future projects. Thank you so much for liking my fic. Love you guys <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tear-Soaked Ember

**Author's Note:**

> These are my thoughts of Tomoe's state of mind at some point during his 20 lonely years without Mikage. I have so far only watched season 1 of the anime but thus far I feel very strongly about this. I just...wanna hug him T_T. So this fic is just a modest fangirl's sympathy. Thank you for reading.

The torii hung over his head like a guillotine, threatening to take him as he entered the place that was once his sanctuary. Quietly his feet climbed the stone steps, a cool breeze grazing his pale face. His long silver-white hair twisted in the wind against his red butterfly-print kimono, gliding behind him as he ascended. Cold violet eyes faced his destination searching the nothing that waited ahead.

 _Lord Mikage_....

The name stung in his chest, a spiral of burning rage and longing that he tried to drown in sake earlier that night. His cheeks streaked with drunken blush and his skin still heated with need from the touch of a prostitute who tried but failed to distract him. This place no longer felt like the refuge he was promised. It could never be without the one who made and broke that very same promise. Now as he staggered about the abandoned shrine he could feel the absence in the air.

So many washed their hands to purify the filth of the world. So many presented their wooden plaques with written wishes for love or good crops. So many clapped their hands together and whispered prayers to a god that would never answer them. Over time those numbers dwindled and even as he recorded the few that still came it felt as if he was the only one with a prayer left.

_Damn it!_

Curse the merciful being that saved him long ago. Curse those sad brown eyes as he promised to sooth his aching soul. Curse the intimate contract that bound them together as familiar and kami. Curse his heart for aching from the wound inflicted by that same merciless master.

Standing at the center of the shrine along the prayer path he looked up to the dark gray sky, watching the distant flicker of lightening as a storm quickly rolled in. A salty droplet fell on his cheek and rolled off his jawline, then another followed, then many more in quicker procession. He hurried into the inner sanctum as they created a hush sound as the downpour hit the stone pavement.

 

 

Darkness surrounded him in the empty room. His tail hitting the paneling first, he stumbled back and slid down against the doors behind him. Gritting his teeth he fought with the loneliness swelling inside him and dug his claws into the tatami mat.

“Damn it Mikage. Why?”

It was winning. Who was he kidding? He did drink enough to get a yokai drunk, which for Tomoe meant a hell of a lot. Now his head pounded trying to ignore the boisterous splattering of the rain outside. A flash of lightening struck light into the room, illuminating one of the butterflies on his decorative robes.

Tomoe let his head hang as it swam with memories he tried to avoid out of the few he could retain. The rain. The darkness. The butterfly. It was too much like the night they made their contract.

“Tomoe.”

Tomoe slowly rose his head as the strikingly familiar voice called out to him. A faint vision of Mikage met his astonished gaze. The land god smiled sadly, his soft brown eyes set upon him. He stammered to his feet and flicked his right hand open, a blue ember igniting above it. Impulsively he sent it flying at the apparition. Much to his disbelief it flew threw the shadow and landed in the middle of the floor burning the spot.

Mikage stepped forward, unaffected by the fox fire that seared the tatami behind him and reached out towards him. Tomoe's mouth gaped open and he pressed his back against the door. The kitsune shivered when he felt a cold hand touch his face. The slender fingers gently caressed his cheek as a thumb brushed across his trembling lips. The other arm stretched pass his head brushing his ear and planted his hand on the door. Tomoe's heart danced chaotically in his chest, his body petrified as Mikage's yukata rustled against his clothes.

“I promise you.” he whispered inching closer, his eyes narrowing drearily as his lips drew closer. “You will know what it means to love again.”

 

 

Another bolt of lightening struck the ground, sending a bright flash through the room. The light weight lifted. The frigid fingers left his face. All at once the memory faded away in the light and once again Tomoe was alone in the darkness. He dug his claws into the wood panel to steady himself and hung his head, his silver bangs hiding his eyes. His shoulders shook as a low laugh escaped his mouth.

“A promise indeed...” he chuckled maniacally.

The rain pounded into the ground mercilessly. The lightening crackled in the sky. Wood chips collected in jagged pieces beneath his nails as the sharp bones dragged down the shredded surface of the door. He cupped a hand over his face. Blood trickled painting his pale features with streaks of red as he laughed wildly. Red droplets dripped onto his kimono, spotting a blue butterfly with tiny red specs.

“Then to that I promise, Lord Mikage; to burn you to ash.” he vowed madly.

With another flick of his wrist he summoned an immense circle of fire freeing the embers to burn whatever they hit as they flew. The shrine sprites came floating toward the room frantically calling out his name. By the time they arrived he was gone. They arrived to see blue flames devouring the room and a shredded silk butterfly dying in the inferno.

 

 

END

 


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